


Plight of Troth

by Infidele



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Drama & Romance, Homophobia, Lawyers, M/M, Slow To Update, chaebols
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infidele/pseuds/Infidele
Summary: Inseong is a heartbroken lawyer with a complicated background. When he gets himself into some trouble, he has to fight the law to fake his own marriage.
Relationships: Kim Inseong/Kim Youngbin, Kim Inseong/Lee Jaeyoon, Kim Youngbin/Lee Sanghyuk | Dawon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Plight of Troth

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've had this in my drafts forever and I have a lot of time to write right now so I want to start posting it! It also seemed like a great time with the comeback right around the corner (plus the teasers are so good! I can't wait)
> 
> The updates will be slow though since this isn't the main story I'm working on right now (it's an NCT fic called Cursed with Coolness on my profile if you want to check it out as well). I don't think this story will by much longer than 50k when its done, and it might be a bit heavy at times but I hope you enjoy it!

Three shots were apparently not a viable solution for filling the gaping hole in Inseong’s chest. It might have been more than three, he couldn’t really remember now. The thing was that he could still feel the desperate ache in his chest, painfully throbbing with every beat of his heart. He wanted to hate Jaeyoon for leaving him like this, but it was hard when the only thoughts on his mind were how much he missed him. Inseong knew that drinking away his sorrow wasn’t going to end well for him; that’s probably why he set out to do so in the first place. 

He ordered another drink, asking for something stronger. Or at least he thought he did. It might have sounded more like a slurred confession than he intended, but the bartender got the message. 

A glass of honey-colored liquor appeared in front of Inseong. He looked at it for a while; the sweet golden color reminding him of a soothing voice that used to sing his name. He missed him. He missed him so much. Inseong downed his drink and vaguely thought he might have called the bartender to bring him another. 

It seemed like he had spent a week sitting there at the bar, people coming and going, everything a blur. The drinks kept coming and Inseong knew the bill would be another ache to worry about in the morning. 

He went to go to the bathroom, not drunk enough to stumble over to a corner or piss himself quite yet. Too much liquid and not enough liquor. Inseong suspected that the bartender had stopped giving him the real stuff for a while now; they were cunning like that, getting you to keep paying full price while you couldn’t tell the difference. Inseong was usually for clever ploys, but this time he just wanted to drink until he could no longer remember why.

He should go home. Home, where he feels so incredibly lonely. Where it still smells like the man who used to live there with him. Not like piss, beer, and quickies in the lonely stall.

Inseong didn’t have anywhere else to go. He was letting his assistant crash on the couch in their office tonight and his parent’s house was a nightmare compared to going back to his own apartment. 

Lost in thought, Inseong stumbled out of the bathroom and straight into someone. Inseong fell with all of the liquor in his limbs and a glass of wine seeped into the fabric on his chest, painting the white fabric a deep shade of burgundy. Who even drinks red wine in a bar?

Handsome guys apparently. Inseong looked up to see a large pair of concerned eyes staring down at him. Really handsome guys. 

Inseong attempted to pick himself off of the floor, managing to find the ground with his face this time. The other man offered a hand for Inseong to stabilize himself with. 

“I’m sorry I got wine all over you.” Even his voice was beautiful, smooth in the way of softened chocolate. It reminded him of the sweet honey that would tease his clumsiness and a new note of sadness strummed Inseong’s heartstrings. 

“It’s alright, probably should be heading out anyways.” Inseong was proud of how little slur came out in his words.

“How are you getting home?”

“Mmmmm prolly gonna walk. Not driving.”

“You look like you’ve murdered someone, can I get you some clean clothes first? I can get you a uniform from the back.”

Inseong looked down at the dark stains splashed across his shirt. If he hadn’t murdered someone then he must have been dying. He didn't feel too far off. With uncertainty in his movements and strange thoughts running through his mind (like how he wouldn’t mind taking his clothes off for the man if that’s what he was asking), Inseong agreed that he was a police arrest waiting to happen.

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s the least I can do,” the man smiled. Inseong’s mind was so conflicted. He was in love with Jaeyoon, he could feel it, painfully, with every breath he took. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was his champion smile, but Inseong felt like this man could make him forget. “Follow me.”

They went behind the bar and into a back hallway, the man leading Inseong by the hand. His assistance was more help than a sober Inseong would have liked to admit, but it felt good having his hand in someone else’s again. They climbed up a narrow set of stairs and into a storage room.

“Is this allowed?” Inseong asked, fingers tracing the edges of a dusty cardboard box. The man grabbed his wrist, pulling it away from the shelves.

“Would it make you uncomfortable if I told you no?” 

Inseong shrugged. Sober Inseong probably would’ve been able to piece together clues from the man’s glittering watch and the red soles of his shoes. Then again, sober Inseong would’ve gone back to the bar to drink until he wasn’t. Drunk Inseong was just happy to not have a certain someone on the forefront of his mind. 

The man let go of Inseong’s wrist to rummage through a few boxes, pulling out a crisply folded black t-shirt. He held it up for size, tossed it back in the box, and then chose another. 

Drunk Inseong really liked the way the man’s hands touched the t-shirt fabric. And the way that his black hair almost covered his eyes. And the sharp shadows that contoured his face. Sober Inseong would have agreed.

“Here, put this on,” he said, throwing the shirt to Inseong. It fell at Inseong’s feet in a little black heap of fabric, coordination not being drunk Inseong’s forte.

Inseong couldn’t have guessed how quickly it would progress from that to deft hands unbuttoning his shirt for him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip (not that he could even feel his lips at that point). It felt really nice having someone in his arms, pressed against him like this. The last time must have been Jaeyoon, months ago.

He didn’t have much time to think about Jaeyoon though, his thoughts too filled with the taste of wine lingering on the other’s lips and the muscles that rippled with strength everywhere that Inseong could feel. It was harsh and aggressive, pushing him back against the cold metal of the shelves. Every touch, every bite, like a razor on his skin, bruising and burning with a kind of passion unlike anything he had ever known before. There was no sweetness, no fingers languidly twirling the hairs on his nape. There were no soft and longing looks shared between them when they broke apart. There was nothing between them but a hurricane of desire to lose themselves in one another. 

All too soon the other man was pulling away, a persistent banging calling him from outside the room.

“Wait. We aren’t done,” he whispered. His finger ghosted over Inseong’s lips before he left, shutting the door behind him. It was colder without someone’s arms around him. 

“Oh, it was you,” Inseong could hear the voices outside through the walls. “Didn’t expect that. I thought you and-- _ you know _ \--weren’t on good terms right now.” The deep timbre of the other man’s voice made Inseong shiver.

“We aren’t.” 

“Oh.”

“Did you need something?” There was venom in his voice, a kind of poison that made Inseong’s knees weak and hands quake. He couldn’t tell if it was the cold, the alcohol, or the magnetic pull towards the man who seemed like everything Jaeyoon cwas not, but he was excited and keen to find out.

“One of the bartenders told me the storage room was locked. Came to check it out just in case. You should probably fire whoever let you drink.” 

“The only person I’m considering firing right now is you.”

“Ah. Got it. I’ll get going then.”

Inseong listened to the sound of footsteps fading away. He had put on the forgotten t-shirt, a semi-solution to shivering in the cool air. With the cold came the lingering reminder of days where he never went without another pair of arms to warm him. 

There was a certain stickiness, like unsweetened lemonade, that always seemed to lure his mind back to the sour aftertaste Jaeyoon had left him with. It fueled his appetite for this fresh and scathing spice that dominated over every other sensation; the only thing capable of drowning out the tepid bitterness on his tongue.

The door opened and the other man was there, wrapping his arms around Inseong’s waist and pushing him back against a shelf filled with boxes, leaving no room between them for thoughts of anyone else. He was there and it was fire scorching through the ice in his veins, evaporating painful memories and stray thoughts.

“Did you have plans tonight?” he whispered, quick to busy his lips once more on Inseong’s skin. Inseong shook his head, even if he had plans they would have long been abandoned. “Good.” 

With an unfamiliar shirt on his chest and a stranger’s hand squeezing his, Inseong let the other man lead him towards oblivion.

~~

There were a few things that stood out when Inseong woke up apart from the ache in his head and the slime coating his mouth.

Inseong hadn’t had enough drinks because when he woke up he could still recall the last night with more clarity to have been as drunk as he wanted. His tolerance was increasing more quickly than he had anticipated.

He was also alone in a bed that wasn’t his. Not that that was in itself a problem, but the lack of clothes was a bit embarrassing. He didn’t regret whatever happened, but he wished that his drunk self could’ve had a bit more decency.

The windows were bright with a breathtaking view of Gangnam from tens of stories up. Each wardrobe and fixture in the room held a purpose, even the books on the bedside table were chosen with taste. The likeness to the decorated halls of his parents’ home sent a shiver down his spine.

There were few signs that the bedroom was even lived in and not a showroom. Only the rumpled sheets on the other side of the bed and an empty charging cable betrayed life. 

He had woken up because someone was making a ruckus, loudly shouting from somewhere else in the apartment. He might have mistaken the place to be a hotel room if not for the unfamiliar shouts. Inseong didn’t really care to meet the source of the din, but naturally, it came barging into the bedroom to greet him anyways.

“--ELL CHANHEE ABOUT WHAT YOU REALLY--” Inseong and the screaming man made eye contact and the encounter immediately claimed a spot among the top ten most awkward moments of his life.

The intruder was wearing a long tan jacket and turtleneck shirt, looking like he had just stepped off of the runway while Inseong was fully exposed, a constellation of purple bruises littering his skin like the Milky Way.

Inseong was a little too shocked to do anything other than gather the blankets closer to himself. The other guy gave him a quick once over and cracked a huge grin. With a shrill squeal he threw himself onto the bed and Inseong.

“Hi! I’m Sanghyuk and you’re cute.” Inseong was flustered by Sanghyuk’s proximity and how his arms wrapped around him so boldly. “You’re warm too.”

“Um, excuse me Sanghyuk, but I should probably get going.” Inseong didn’t know why his voice came out as a whisper but the man on top of him actually giggled. His curly hair bounced along with the laughter that rippled through his body. 

Inseong sat up, pulling the blankets with him. He had hoped that would be a clear message to let go of him and leave him in peace; evidently that wasn’t the case. Sanghyuk squeezed him tighter, nuzzling his head into Inseong’s chest. 

“You have a great body for cuddling. Not too hard, not too soft. I could hug you for days.”

“Um...thanks? I kind of need to go though.” Inseong wriggled around in Sanghyuk’s hold. He didn’t want to push him, so he grabbed Sanghyuk’s arms and delicately peeled them off of himself, escaping the grinning devil and the bed.

The blankets didn’t quite make it with him. Inseong desperately scanned the floor for clothes that might have been discarded last night, but the floor was only warmed by a few well placed rugs. 

“Just take something from the closet. It’s mostly mine anyways.”

Inseong didn’t question it, throwing open the closet doors and fumbling around with the hangars before pulling a dress shirt off of the rack. He quickly buttoned it up, save the last three. It was a bit tight but workable. 

He could feel the other man’s eyes watching him from the bed. Inseong knew that this was not the man he went home with last night, but the way Sanghyuk was staring made Inseong second guess his own memory.

“There’s underwear in the top drawer and some sweats two drawers down,” Sanghyuk yawned, stretching back to enjoy the softness of the bed. Not wasting a minute, Inseong found the items where Sanghyuk had directed and hastily pulled them on. 

“Thank you,” Inseong said, slipping cautiously through the door.

“Come again soon, love!”

Inseong left the building as quickly as he could. He made peace with the fact that his clothes were gone and these ones were his now. Last night was great, as far as he could remember, but he didn’t plan on ever going back. There were too many questions in that apartment and Inseong prefered keeping his life simple by staying out of it. Also, the sweats were really comfy.

A man was passing out the Sunday paper on the corner of the block so Inseong took one. The front headline caught his eye since it was talking about the conclusion to his most recent case, a high profile one involving an idol beating his girlfriend.

Inseong was taking a break from law since there was so much press coverage during the last case. It wasn’t his choice. If he could, he would never stop working. Call it passion for justice or a poor coping mechanism, but Inseong loved to lose himself in the papers and arguments, pages upon pages of jargon and rules. It was like dancing across thin ice, trying to avoid falling into the freezing water while jumping gracefully from each foothold to the next.

His parents were the ones who had requested he take a step back for a little while. His mother planned on running in the upcoming elections and it would be bad publicity if word came out about her son taking on controversial cases that didn’t side with her party’s beliefs or that reflected badly on her image.

Speaking of his parents, Inseong was supposed to have lunch with his family. Sundays were usually reserved for the weekly family discussion of his parents controlling his life and reprimanding him for not being as good of a son as he could be. 

Maybe that’s why Saturday nights tended to come with higher tabs.

Inseong made his way back to the office. He didn’t know where his wallet had ended up last night, but his phone was in the safe-keeping of his desk. His phone was necessary to work and life. His wallet, well, he could freeze the cards and track it down later. Money wasn’t something that concerned him.

“Inseong! You’re back, is this true? It just came up on Naver like 10 minutes ago!” Seokwoo greeted. Inseong pushed the phone aside, not ready to deal with his assistant’s strange infatuation with the lives of celebrities.

“I just need to pick up my phone, I’ll be leaving in just a minute.” Inseong liked it when Seokwoo spent the night on the office couch instead of himself since everything ended up so much cleaner whenever he came back. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah! Sorry this happened again. My roommate had his friend over and they locked me out. I ordered like 10 extra copies of my key so it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Inseong chuckled. His phone was right where he planned. 

“I don’t like kicking you out though. I feel bad,” Seokwoo whined.

“I have my own apartment kid, it’s alright.” Inseong pocketed the device and headed back towards the outside world. “I’m taking off. Skim through some of the smaller cases, see if there are any that aren’t too big. I’ll be back later for a consultation with a client and we can discuss taking some new cases later tonight.”

“Alright. You sure though? I thought there was an ultimatum on the lawyer activities.”

“I’m a big boy. What my parents don’t know won’t hurt them. I won’t be taking any cases, but that doesn’t mean the firm is also on hold.” Seokwoo nodded excitedly. He was a good kid, too tall and lanky for his own good with a penchant for physical affection, but a good kid nonetheless.

“See you later then,” and with a wave Inseong left.

He got a taxi to his family home. The driver whistled at the sight of the house, a handsome place with a well kept garden. Inseong thought it was too much, but his parents would have done more if they weren’t trying to keep up a “humble” image. Inseong hoped they would criticize him for coming in sweats and not showering so he could escape with the excuse of “self-grooming” at least for a while.

The blaring noise of the doorbell echoed in the halls when Inseong pressed the little button. He could enter the mansion in any number of ways, but making a scene at the entrance was his best shot at getting a ticket out sooner. The butler, an older man who Inseong regarded as family more than his own parents, opened the door. 

“Young Mister Kim, it’s a pleasure. Your mother is expecting you.”

“Thanks Eugene, if she comes looking for me tell her I’m washing up.” Inseong quickly went up the staircase to find security in his old bedroom. 

It was hard to tell that someone had once lived in the room. Sure, it had a bed and a dresser or two for show, but the air was stagnant. The only traces that Inseong had ever inhabited this place were a few slightly raised patches where the walls had to be replastered after he had raged against them in his youth. 

A few sets of clean, folded shirts and slacks occupied the drawer space. Inseong had never worn them before, and he knew that a new selection would await him next week if he happened to have need. For a moment he considered not dressing up, but he decided the earful he would get from his mother wasn’t worth the trouble. If he had less of a hangover he might have been able to handle it, but the drilling in his head didn’t need any external assistance.

He put on the first shirt his fingers found and pulled on a pair of beige slacks because it was Sunday. He brushed his teeth and tried to rinse out the vestiges of the night. Jaeyoon had instilled a habit of brushing three times with mouthwash between to get rid of hangover mouth. Inseong couldn’t bring himself to stop when it worked so well, even though the simple routine dampened his mood every time.

His reflection stared at him, heavy bags beneath his eyes and hair wild. His lips were chapped, and his eyes were red from general lack of sleep. He looked exactly like he felt. 

The clock started making noise, giving Inseong the motivation to leave his reflection to gloom in solitude. He left the unwelcoming room to face his parents' version of hospitality.

He made his way down the hall of meticulously placed artwork and decor to the family dining area. It was a small and comfortable room where his parents would reprimand and shame him when he was younger during important dinners. Not much had changed.

Inseong’s mother and younger brother were already seated at the table. His mother’s sharp eyes followed him as he sat down next to Youngkyun, already pinpointing at least three things to criticize him for.

“Good to see you Hwiyoung. Still studying hard?”

The younger boy had his long hair neatly pulled back with an elastic, however a few strands by his ear had escaped to tickle his crisp blue collar. 

“Yes.” His words were low and little more than a whisper.

“He has his exams in a month from now. Youngkyun is studying diligently, despite the failures of his elder brother.”

Inseong’s mother was at the very least put together. She wore her hair short and neat, keeping a clean and careful presentation even before her own children. Her red lips matched the ruby encrusted on her hairpin, shining like she had just finished draining someone’s veins. 

picked out a pastry placed in the center of the table before he spoke. Little flecks of flakey dough scattered onto the cloth as he chewed. “But I’m glad you are aiming higher, Hwi.”

Mrs. Kim’s fingers tightened around the delicate fruit fork that she held. Youngkyun swallowed a mouthful from his plate, quick to keep quiet.

“Youngkyun has one of the best tutors around. He has already aced the tests that you failed to qualify on. However, I was referring to more recent failures.” Inseong’s mother stared into his eyes as her bloody lips closed around the half of a grape. “I’m assuming that you haven’t seen the latest news then.”

“May I be excused?” Youngkyun asked politely. He refused to meet Inseong’s eyes, but glanced at him nervously beneath his long lashes. 

Their mother didn’t even acknowledge his request, continuing to speak as if the boy hadn’t said anything at all. “We tried to keep it quiet, but we couldn’t intercept all of the photos and one of the tabloids published an article this morning.”

Inseong looked to Youngkyun for some explanation but the boy offered no support. Mrs. Kim picked up the folder placed next to her and gently pushed it towards Inseong. 

“Fortunately for us your father and I have many connections and we have a plan to spin this in our favor.” Inseong grabbed the folder and flipped it open. “However this doesn’t come without any punishment either.”

There were pictures of him and another man leaving a club together. Pictures of them holding hands, of them kissing in the back of a car. Beneath the photos was an article posted to an online discussion forum featuring the headline “MIN SOOYOUNG’S LAWYER AND KS BANK CHAEBOL HEIR OPENING SAME-SEX MARRIAGE CASE?”

“We figured that it might be possible to work it into our campaign platform, although this requires much cooperation on your part.”

Inseong couldn’t breathe. He had never really hid his sexuality from the people who knew him, but opening up that box to the critical public eye was not something he had ever intended. His eyes shook, glancing over the text beneath the headline. Inseong couldn’t bring himself to look at the comments below .

“It’s also lucky that the KS Group are more than willing to cooperate. They want this scandal even less than us, can you imagine! Ha.”

How could this have even happened? Inseong had gotten some publicity recently for his latest case, but he never imagined the press would invade his privacy like this. Everything felt wrong, this shouldn’t be happening to him.

“You will cooperate with us otherwise your career will be destroyed and you will shame this entire family. I doubt Youngkyun would have a very pleasant time in school with the disrespectful name of his older brother hanging around his neck.”

Inseong looked up at his mother, feeling less like her son and more like a fly trapped in her web.

“What do you want from me?” 

Mrs. Kim smiled, drawing a thin red line across her face. Her mouth opened like it was going to swallow up Inseong’s entire world with her words.

“I want you to get married.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Oooooh, cliffhanger! Hahaha sorry! I have to update my other fic before I post the next chapter for this one, but leave a comment about what you liked or think might happen while you wait!
> 
> Stay safe and wear a mask outside!


End file.
